Chapter 26 | Zoey

Chapter 26

Zoey

T he gentle creak of the rocking chair against the old wooden porch soothes me. I hadn’t been able to find words when Julian showed up or after he secured me in the car and went in search of Andrew or when he came back, cheeks flushed and anger radiating off him. Even in the safety of his sister’s home, words beyond pleasantries escape me. Emotions too strong to verbalize swirl inside me still. They are bursting to be released but also holding me hostage.

Finding Andrew and Claire together was a swift, clean-cut wound. Two of the most important people in my life were there, and then they were not. At least that’s how it felt. There weren’t talks to save either relationship. Their absence became a haunting reminder of what once was. But the second I kissed Andrew by the pool, the clean edges of the wound dirtied with infection, healing ceased, and now I’m septic.

Coming down here was a mistake from the beginning. I knew it when he asked. I knew it when I showed up at his house this morning. Going wasn’t about Andrew or my misguided feelings. It wasn’t about getting away from Ardena. It was always about winning. I wanted to beat Claire, and this was the only way I knew how, a fact that makes me completely and utterly pitiful.

A flash of Andrew’s face malignant with anger brings back the night’s memories. I cringe away from them, literally and mentally, desperately pulling anything but that look of disgust to mind. That only brings the image of Claire riding Andrew. God, no . Why does my brain hate me? Please. No . My fingernails dig into my palms, the pain bringing me back to myself.

Julian stands in front of me. He offers me a beach-themed coffee mug.

“Hot chocolate.”

“It’s ninety degrees out,” I say, taking the mug.

“I thought it would make the whiskey more tolerable.”

I shoot him a look. “Liz isn’t going to like that.”

“It’s her idea,” he says with a warm smile. Whatever he’s done, he loves Liz in his way. “She’s about thirty minutes away.”

I close my eyes, a new and overpowering emotion pushing through the devastation—guilt. Liz and Julian have decided to part, and my stupidity is forcing them back together. What pain will this cause my sister? What hope might this give Julian?

“I’m sorry.” I sip the drink. The chocolate does cut the alcohol but barely.

Julian sits down in a rocking chair next to me and puts his feet up on the ottoman. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

I scrunch my nose in disagreement. “That’s not true.”

He only nods and continues to rock. His eyes scan the street. We’re far enough from the main part of town that it’s quiet here with only a few stragglers returning to their homes. Even the horse-and-carriage rides that pass by all day on historic downtown tours are done for the day. I’ve never been here before, but I remember Liz talking about the tranquility of this town and how whenever she arrived, she immediately felt at peace. After only an hour, I understand. There isn’t a better place I can think of to lick your wounds and contemplate life.

The air between us is heavy. He wants to ask what happened. I want to know what went down when he disappeared for several minutes to go find Andrew. Neither of us is going to ask. Instead, we rock in a shared silence. It’s familiar and comforting. This is how things have always been with us. Julian has been in my life as long as Liz, and he adopted me without question into his care. Even more so as he grew from teenager to young man to man. Unlike the other people in my life, he has no history with the Reids that doesn’t include me. There’s no awkwardness or might-have-beens. There’s me as a natural and forever part of a complicated family. It’s something I value. Something I will greatly miss if... no, I can’t think about what Liz and Julian separating will mean for me. It’s not about me. And really there’s no question—Julian will fade away. He’ll start a new life, and so will we.

After a long while, Julian stands and scans the street again. There’s not a soul out there, but he pats my shoulder in farewell, regardless. “Liz should be here in a minute.”

“Julian?” I ask tentatively. He stops at the door but doesn’t turn around, as if he can guess my question. And he probably can. “Was he with another girl when you found him?”

“Yes,” he answers, still facing the door. “Yes, he was, Zoey.”